Archive for the ‘F. Paul Wilson’ Category

F. Paul Wilson’s The Keep created a timeless evil. Reborn brought that evil back to us in the shape of an unborn child. Reprisal, Wilson’s darkest, most terrifying novel yet, reveals the Adversary twenty years later, in a nightmarish tale of violence, eroticism and fear.

Will Ryerson, a man with a mysterious past, thinks he’s found a new life at Darnell University in North Carolina. He thinks he’s safe from the horrors that once pursued him. And apart from disturbing phone calls, his life is one of tranquillity and near-solitude. Until the horror seeks him out.

Drawn into the net of corruption and malignity are others: Lisl, low in self-esteem and good looks, in love and only slightly disturbed by the pleasure she feels in a sadomasochistic sex life; Ev, recovering alcoholic and Lisl’s rival in the maths department; Renny, a New York cop still obsessed by the five-year-old brutal slaying of a child. And Veilleur, the Adversary’s age-old foe, who must now gather his forces for the apocalyptic battle between good and evil.

Huge, yellow and infinitely evil, they stared in at her from the outside dark. Stared in through the third storey window.
Then she smelled the thick, cloying stench that had seeped into her room, that now filled her nose, her mouth, choking her with the sweet taste of decay.
Suddenly the glass shattered. Safety bars and then the entire window frame were torn out. Gigantic clawed hands: one clutching at the sill; one reaching out towards her. She saw black, damp-slicked fur, three fingers that tapered to yellowed talons…

She screamed and screamed again. And realised she was wide awake and this was no nightmare.
`A riveting combination of detective story and horror fiction’ – Publishers Weekly

The message, sent by Captain Klaus Woermann to German Army High Command.

The location: a medieval fortress overlooking the Dinu Pass, high In the Transylvanian Alps. Where the German garrison was being taken and murdered one by one, night after night, and left, throats torn out, to drive the survivors mad with fear.

The solution: a reinforcing squad of terror-hardened SS Einsatzkommandos.

The mistake: ignorance. The legends of Transylvania meant nothing to them. Nor the existence of an evil centuries older and hideously more powerful than anything in even the most diseased imaginings of an SS killer.